San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-01-08
CHAPTER VII,

Sweet, swift, and sad, was the course
of that fatal love story, and the pity of
1t was that those nearest and dearest to
the hopeless girl thought nothing of it
saw and understood nothing.
Both the farmer and his wife liked
Eric st. John; they thought him good
man. which he was; they knew he was
a rich man, all the evidences of wealth
and luxury were about him. His gold
watch was wonder to view; his chain
was one of the finest and most curious
workmanship; he had solitaires and
studs of finest gold; his dresSing-case
was model of art, everything that be-
longed to him was the best. He had
plenty of money, and there is nothing
in this world of ours which commands
so much respect as plenty of ready
money. As the farmer expressed it
He thought nothing of a sovereign"
Then, he made such sensible presents
no one could be angry with him; a black
silk dress for Mrs. Vaughan, as little
offering of gratitude for her care of him;
for the farmer came the books he liked
best. and many other things. He never
offered anything but flowers to Bonnie
Doom, never even a book or ribbon,
but she wanted nothing from him. Eric
had be N two months at the farm now,
and the August sun shone over the
land; the corn, or, as the farmer said
sadly, what was left of it." stood al
most ripe for the sickle: the bearded
barley had taken heart of grace, and the
Laughing oats made a brave show.
The sun shOne over the fertile land.
Every day Eric was growing stronger,
better, but as yet he was not we'll enough
to return home. Strange pains came to
him at times, strange weakness in his
head, lapse of strength that alarmed
him, and tnen for few days he would
be an invalid again.
You must be careful, sir and go
slowly" the farmer would say, and Mrs.
Vaughan was always anxious when he
was i'll. Those distracting he daches.
the legacy of fever, did much harm.
When they enforced rest and quiet,
1t was Ruth who attended him, Ruth
who darkened the room, who found the
softest pillows, who knelt by his side
and bathed the burning, aching head
with fragrant waters; it was Ruth who
nursed him, and, when the pain was
gone, sOOthed him with every sweet and
loving word. He almost enjoyed a
headache under these circumstances.
She loved him so; she was so shy and
bllillh NNN llts'A AiC vi llOl lONNs
Mrs. Vaughan was famous for distil-
ling sweet waters from sweet flowers,
from lavender, rose, balsam, and Ruth
used them with a lavish hand; then,
when she laid the fine white linen,
stepped in odorous waters on his brow,
it seemed so natural that she should
bend down and Just touch the face with
her beautiful trembling lips-the shyest,
sweetest kiss ever offered; then he
would draw her nearer to him and re-
turn it with interest. saving always
What should do without YOU, Bon
ME DOOM"
"Ycu will never be without me-" she
would answer. for she had never looked
into the future, the light of the present
daZzled her so.
What quiet. tranquil, happy hours
they were: thry Knit Ter heart so strong
" to his, moth NC but death could sever it.
She was Jealous. poor child, of every
service that everyone else rendered him.
If Mrs. Vaughan took his fruit or wine,
the beautiful Young face would grow
perfectly pallid. lie was her own by